Page 10

CHAPTER 10

CASPIAN

The morning rush has finally died down, giving me a chance to catch my breath and wipe down the counter for what feels like the hundredth time. I’m starting to understand why Old Mac retired—running a coffee shop single-handed is no joke.

I worked my way up in this business from inexperienced barista to team leader to manager before I quit to look after my mom. But when you own a business, the stakes are higher, and there’s a whole new level of pressure I’m still getting used to.

I’m grateful I took Olivia’s suggestion about doing a soft opening first because it’s giving me a chance to find my rhythm before the grand opening.

The bell above the door chimes, and I look up to see a man with two young girls bundled in colorful winter coats. The taller one is wearing what looks like a Frozen-themed hat, while the smaller one sports bright-pink earmuffs.

“Welcome to Special Blend!” I call out cheerfully.

The man helps the girls unwrap their scarves as they approach the counter. “Hi, I’m Felix,” he says with a warm smile. “And these are my daughters Elsa and Arya.”

“Like the movie!” the taller girl announces proudly, pointing to her hat.

“And like Game of Thrones !” the younger one pipes up.

Felix laughs, running a hand through his short brown hair. “Though maybe we shouldn’t mention that second reference too loudly in front of their grandmother. She’s still convinced I named her after a character from a children’s show.”

I grin, already warming to this little family. “I’m Caspian. I just took over from Old Mac.”

“Welcome to Maplewood,” Felix says, leaning against the counter. “Please tell me you make something other than plain black coffee?”

“You’ve come to the right place,” I assure him, gesturing to the menu board. “How about some hot chocolate for the girls? And what can I get you?”

“Oh thank god, you have actual coffee drinks,” Felix says, scanning the menu with obvious relief. “I’ll take a caramel macchiato, extra shot of espresso if you don’t mind. Single parenting requires serious caffeine.”

While I prepare their drinks—hot chocolates with extra whipped cream for the girls and Felix’s fortified macchiato—we chat about being newcomers to Maplewood. Felix tells me about moving here just before Christmas, and I share a bit about following my dreams with a little help from my mom.

“It’s nice to meet another new face,” Felix says, accepting his drink. “Sometimes it feels like everyone here has known each other forever.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” I agree, watching the girls carefully carry their hot chocolates to a nearby table. “But everyone’s been really welcoming so far.”

Just as Felix joins the girls at their table, the bell chimes again. A woman who looks to be in her fifties enters, shaking snow from her boots. She has laugh lines around her eyes and carries herself with a gentle confidence that immediately puts me at ease.

“You must be Caspian,” she says, approaching the counter. “I’m Catherine Stone. I used to bake for Mac.”

She has friendly eyes and a warm smile, and I find myself smiling back automatically. “Nice to meet you, Catherine.”

“I brought you something,” Catherine says, pulling a box from a bag. “I thought you might like to try my signature maple cake before we discuss the baker position. If you’re still looking to hire someone, that is.”

I open the top and almost gasp. The cake is beautifully presented, with a light-brown frosting that smells heavenly. I cut a slice onto a plate, and when I take a bite, I have to stop myself from moaning out loud. The cake is incredibly moist, and the maple flavor is rich without being overwhelming. There’s a subtle hint of something else—maybe vanilla?—that makes it absolutely perfect.

“This is amazing,” I say, savoring another bite. “Seriously, this might be the best cake I’ve ever had.”

Catherine beams. “I’m glad you like it. I use local maple syrup and a few secret ingredients I’ve perfected over the years.”

As I’m covering up the cake so it doesn’t dry out, my eyes catch on the small wooden sign hanging above the coffee maker. It reads Life is sweeter with a dash of magic and coffee will keep you awake for it . It’s my mom’s favorite saying. She had it painted on our kitchen wall back home.

“Oh my goodness,” Catherine suddenly says, her voice soft. “Where did you get that sign?”

“It was my mom’s saying. She…” I trail off, my throat tightening unexpectedly.

“Elena,” Catherine whispers. “Is your mom’s name Elena Lane?”

I nod, unable to say the words aloud.

“She used to say that all the time when we were kids.” Her eyes are wide, filling with tears. “You’re Elena’s son?”

I nod, unable to speak for a moment. “You knew my mom?”

“We were best friends growing up,” Catherine says, reaching for my hand across the counter. “We did everything together until she left Maplewood. We wrote letters for a while, but you know how things were back then—no email, no social media. We eventually lost touch.” She squeezes my hand. “How is she?”

The lump in my throat grows bigger. “She…she passed away a few months ago. Cancer.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Catherine comes around the counter and pulls me into a hug. I sink into it, breathing in the faint scent of flowers and motherly comfort. “Elena was the kindest soul I ever knew. I’ve missed her since the day she packed her bags and left to chase her dreams.”

“Thank you,” I manage to say, my voice thick with emotion. “I…This means so much to me. I don’t know anyone who knew Mom back then. You’ve given me an amazing gift.”

Catherine dabs at her eyes with her sleeve, giving me a warm smile. “I’m happy to share memories of Elena anytime you want, sweetheart. But enough of the emotional stuff. Tell me about this position you’re looking to fill.”

We spend the next twenty minutes discussing the job details—hours, pay, what kinds of baked goods she’d make, and how we’d handle special orders. By the time we’re done, I’m already imagining the display case filled with her creations, and I can’t wait to get started.

After Catherine leaves, I find myself lost in thought, staring at Mom’s sign.

“Hey, you okay?” Felix’s voice pulls me from my thoughts. I turn to see him standing at the counter, his empty cup in hand. The girls are still at their table, drawing with crayons I keep behind the counter for young customers.

“Yeah, I just…” I gesture vaguely at the sign. “She was my mom’s best friend growing up. It’s kind of overwhelming to meet someone who knew her back then.”

Felix’s expression softens with understanding. “I couldn’t help overhearing some of it. That’s quite something, finding a connection to your mom here.”

“It feels like one of those moments in a romance novel,” I say. “You know, those magical coincidences that seem too perfect to be real life.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Felix grins. “I actually write romance novels. Well, I’m trying to. When I’m not chasing after these two or designing book covers.”

“Really?” I perk up, gesturing at the reading nook I’m setting up. “I’m planning to have a romance section over there. Mom loved them. Especially queer romance.”

“Your mom sounds amazing,” Felix says softly. “And hey, if you’re looking for suggestions for your romance section, I read a lot of indie authors. I’d love to see some of my favorites on local shelves.”

I feel tears prickling in my eyes again, but this time, they’re accompanied by gratitude. “Thanks, Felix. That means a lot.”

“Anytime,” he says, then glances at his watch. “We should get going. But I’ll definitely be back. The coffee here is way better than Old Mac’s, and it looks like you could use a friend who’s also new in town.”

I smile as I watch Felix gather up his daughters. Between meeting Catherine and making a new friend, maybe today is exactly what I needed—a reminder that sometimes the best connections happen when you least expect them.

After Felix and the girls leave, I spend the next hour serving the occasional customer and cleaning everything. The afternoon sun streams through the large windows, catching dust motes in its golden light, and I can’t help but feel content. Even with the emotional roller coaster of meeting Catherine, there’s something right about being here.

I wrap a big slice of Catherine’s maple cake carefully. Olivia needs to try this—she’s got quite the sweet tooth, and I owe her for all her help with getting the shop ready.

Once everything is spotless and prepped for tomorrow’s soft opening, I lock up and head next door to the craft store. The bell jingles as I enter, and I find Olivia arranging a display of hand-knitted scarves.

“I come bearing gifts,” I announce, holding up the cake box.

Olivia’s eyes light up. She brings the wrapped cake to her nose and inhales deeply. “This is Catherine’s maple cake. I’d know this smell anywhere.”

I laugh. “I do love a girl that knows her cakes. So, what do you think?”

“I’ll tell you a secret. Mac mentioned Catherine might apply. But I’m not lying when I say I’d recognize her cakes anywhere. She’s an amazing baker, and I’m not even going to wait until I get home.”

She goes to her backroom and returns with a plate and a fork.

While Olivia eats most of the slice, I tell her about meeting Catherine and her connection to my mom. By the time I finish the story, she’s shaking her head in wonder.

“Only in Maplewood,” she says, licking frosting off her fork. “And speaking of small-town magic, are you ready for your spot at the Winter Festival?”

I nearly choke on air. “Is it confirmed?”

Olivia grins wickedly. “It sure is. We couldn’t get you by the Wishing Tree, but Special Blend has a vendor spot in the perfect location, right where people will be entering the park and close to the amphitheater. It’s going to be packed—the local choir is performing, and there’ll be an amazing folk band from Burlington.”

“Olivia! You’re amazing. Thank you so much.” I hug her with such excitement that she almost drops the rest of the cake. Thankfully, we manage to save it in time.

“You’re welcome, sweetie. Just wait until you see the crowd numbers,” she says with a wink. “But don’t worry. We’ll all help out. That’s what makes Maplewood special.”

As I walk home in the growing darkness, snow starting to fall again, I think about how much has changed in just a few weeks. Mom would have loved this—the shop, meeting Olivia, Catherine, being part of a community that feels more like family with each passing day.

And if I happen to think about a certain tall, handsome forest product technician who lives next door… Well, that’s just another dash of magic in my new life.